The Way Things Weren't
by Squints63
Summary: Yet another Harry Potter AU superpower raised by Voldermort with a twin brother... story. Chapter 5 up
1. Prelude

Regulus sat along in the shadows of Hogs Head drinking his fire whiskey grudgingly, as he secretly prayed for some hope of escaping the mark that which burned feverishly on his arm. The Dark Lord was calling the Death Eaters again. The fear inside him rose and tossed about like the burning liquid that swished about in his empty belly, telling him to drop his drink and respond right away, and yet there he sat on the worn down stool. He downed yet another glass, wondering how he had come to this point.

All his life he had done all that he could to uphold the proud prestigious Black family traditions. He became a Slytherin, fell in love with a pureblood, and become a Death Eater for the great Lord Voldermont. His mother was certainly proud of him and he was greatly favored over his weaker thinking older brother Sirius. But now, as the war between his lord and the rest of the wizarding world still raged on, he was having serious regrets about staying a Death Eater. Sure, the tormenting mudbloods and muggles were fun and exciting, and the cause itself was something he was very much intune with, but as of late, the killing has gone quite dreary. Also, he has become very aware of his growing fears of being killed by aurors, tortured by his lord, or worse, getting himself captured and sent to live with Dementors in Azkaban.

He slammed down his empty glass and ordered another as he looked over his shoulder before returning to his thoughts. Over and over he rehearsed in his head how he would speak to his lord, asking, begging to be released of his duties. To bad, that in all the scenarios he thought up of, he's ended up being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse into insanity or instantly being Avera Kadavera'd into the realm of the dead. Perhaps if he had some sort of information that was worth his release from this lifetime of enslavement, he thought. But what possible information could he have that was worth it? The only thing he could possibly think of was either injuring himself to the degree of being no use to the dark lord, or turning himself in and pleading the imperius curse. After some thought with the scar in his arm still searing, and seeing that he did not want to lose any of his limbs… the imperius plea did not sound so bad.

Regulas pounded his head with his palm, if he did turn himself in… he would put to shame the prestigious Black name, and that his mother would have two sons to be ashamed of. His dear wife would leave him, and his fellow Death Eaters would hunt him down.

As his thoughts drifted, twisted and spiraled about in his small little brain, his wandering beady eyes caught the backside of Dumbledore. Curious, he crept over, trying to hone in on the conversation. Perhaps there would be something worth to Lord Voldermort, or even better, himself. He crept closer and closer till he was in earshot but also still out of sight. He strained his ears listening to the low, and found a hollow voice of prophecy speaking with Dumbledore from a raspy old woman with extraordinary large glasses.

"approaches.. born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…"

A drunken old wizard who smelled oddly of goats with an empty glass clumsily ran into him, knocking him and taking them both down to the dusty floor. He hurriedly pushed the old man off who mumbled to himself. Regulas attempted to rise as he focused heavily on the low voice of the one speaking to Dumbledore.

"… he will have the power the dark lord knows not …"

Again the drunk wizard interrupted him with a heavy slur "Terriblllly sorry.. di'nt see ya dere."

"If only there weren't so many around so I can have the pleasure of killing you slowly you drunk," Regulas spat in a hushed voice.

He pushed that drunk down and to the side and tried to listen to the voice again.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"

The voice stopped and became silent. The woman blinked and suddenly began talking of how she would become a great asset as a teacher to Hogwarts. Regulus quivered with excitement, this was the information that could turn the tides on this war and finally end it. Anger flooded him, if that drunk hadn't interrupted him, he would have had even more of the prophecy to give to the dark lord. Combing his slick black hair back with his fingers, he quietly creped his way out of the bar, after dropping galleons next to his empty mug. Once out on the streets, he touched his Death Eater's scar, and was transported to the designated meeting place conceived by Voldermort. His thoughts were no longer upon how to get out, but how he could make the inner circle…


	2. Chapter 1

Revision notice: I think I'm going to be rewriting chapters forever

**Revision notice**: I think I'm going to be rewriting chapters forever. This is about the third revision for this chapter.

Tossing and turning feverishly, Lily Potter awoke with cold sweat dripping from her forehead right onto the pillow her head rested on. Her eyes were a flutter and she woken with her right hand grasping tightly at her wand. She drew her wand to her face and peered at it curiously, sitting up as she did, pondering what kind of dream would make her physically grab her wand. Lily fiddled with the wand between her fingers, and though, try as she might, failed to draw up any memories.

A hand touched Lily's left hand that rested on the bed and she realized she was not alone in her thoughts. James was looking at her with a rather distressed face.

"Its not enough that Voldermort plagues our waking thoughts, has he invaded your dreams too?" He asked putting his hand to her face.

Lily paled at the mention of the monster. There was a part of her that was glad she could not recall the dream, knowing the cold-blooded snake probably played a big role. There was another part of her that told her she's had this dream not just once before, but five times before, and all one night after the next. This dream seemed to occur to wake her almost always around the same time too, as if trying to warn her, purposely playing over and over, as if hoping this time; she would wake up and remember.

"Did I say anything?" she asked as she put her wand aside to hold onto his hand.

It was nice to feel the warmth of his hand. She had been feeling so cold lately. She realized at this time how shaky her hand had been, and how cold she actually felt. Her husband bowed his head down not letting her see his face as he told her the words, which had spilled from her mouth.

"No.. not Harry."

At the mention of those words the gates opened and the memories flooded in. She met his eyes again, and without a word, the both of them burst from the bed, up the stairs and down the hall towards the nursery.

As they ran, the dream began to play with every other step and blink she took. There wasn't much a difference from her dream and what she was doing, and yet she knew, she was experiencing both simultaneously. In one blink, she would be turning the corner to the main hallway to the nursery, in another blink, she did the same but in the dream, the halls seem to curl in an attempt to trap her, shadows crept and attempted to trip her by her feet, grasp at her nightgown. The closer she got to the room, the more realistic her dream had become and the more dreamlike reality became to her. She dreamed approaching the room with her wand gripped tightly to her sweating hand, turning the knob, and discovering the room to be locked …

The dream blew open into a waking nightmare, as she blew the door the pieces with her wand and found herself horror stricken to find Voldermort in all his glory holding her baby Harry by the ankle. Behind them, a chilling draft of cool autumn air blew in from a large hole where the window and most of a wall used to be. Stephen, still in the crib was screaming shrilly having been injured. There was a nasty cut just above eye, which had split his brow in two.

But none of that mattered right now to Lily… with her focus lying only with Harry, and how no cries where coming from him. His body hung motionless, lifeless. And yet, she had hope that he was still alive. Her heart reached out to him with her arm..

"Wake up, Harry. Wake up." Her heart whispered.

Those words from her heart were never answered by Harry, instead, it was Voldermort who turned to face her, and so did Harry's limp body. Her heart dropped and her skin grew cold when she saw the new mark for which the Dark Lord was so well known for marring the forehead of her baby. The bright green, newly shaped lighting scar sealed any hopes for a baby Harry ever waking up again.

Voldermort laughed when he saw her face fall, and opened the hand which held the baby. The body dropped and fell, and as she dropped down to catch Harry, the dark lord fled into the night air.

"No!" She called out as her baby fell head first onto the carpet of the nursery, " Not Harry… " she moaned.

There was a loud crack as the head touched the ground and was pushed hard to a sharp angle by the body that was attached. She fell on her knees and stared blankly at her dear baby boy who would never wake again.

"Lily, Lily!"

She turned, and found her husband shaking at her by the shoulders. One blink. Two blinks. Realization hit with her shock fading as she found herself outside the boys nursery with her hand to the door knob. They were still outside the nursery! James who had been shaking her for Gordric knows how long, stared with his deep hazel eyes into her bright emerald ones. She shook violently, and he held her tightly in her arms as she cried utterly and wholly. When she began to find control once again, James released her, and she told him everything.

"I'm afraid James… this dream. Its too real and I really don't want to open that door." She finished with her hand at the door.

Her husband took her hand and set them back on the door knob "Whatever happens, don't forget, I'll be right here with you."

He let go of her hands and she turned the knob. It wasn't locked, and yet they had both their wands where gripped tightly in their arms, preparing for the worst. Quickly and together, they flung that door open and jumped in ready for the worst and found nothing just a plain little nursery with two sleeping boys sharing a crib.

"It was all just a silly dream, thank Godric." Her husband exclaimed exhaling with relief.

Still a bit worried, she raced inside to look in the crib. Two of her boys lay inside, safe and sound. Both of the boys had woken up due to the commotion, and Stephan had begun to cry loudly. She looked at them with a sigh of relief as James walked over to hug her from behind.

"Lily, there's nothing to worry about, everyone thinks that Padfoot's the secret keeper, and both Padfoot and Wormtail have gone into hiding.. the plan's perfect." He said softly in her ear.

She nodded, but hid her doubts about Wormtai. She tried to forget that his animagus form was a RAT, and how he had always ran to hide from a fight unless James, Moony, and Sirius were present. How did they ever become friends in the first place? As her thoughts spun about her troubled mind, she desperately wanted to go back in time to keep Sirius as the secret keeper. But the trust they had in him seemed so strong, maybe there was much more to him than his rodent exterior?

Stephan's wail snapped her out of her thoughts and she headed towards the crib, breaking from James' warm and loving hold. The moment Stephen spotted her, he cried even louder for her to pick him up, and she did, giving him a hug and kiss on the forehead. Meanwhile Harry found his foot and had begun to give it a taste. James picked him up and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Lily gave him a lovingly look, very pleased to see him awake and in no harm. Stephen quickly went back to sleep, and she set him farthest from her and towards the wall. She touched his soft tuft of strawberry blond locks and caressed his chubby soft baby cheeks. He was chubbier than Harry, and his skin was just a little lighter than his father's pigment. He opened his eyes slightly to peak out before going back to sleep, revealing the dark hazel eyes with bits of green towards the outer edges of the cornea.

James handed the already sleeping Harry back to Lily so she could give him a tight squeeze. His cheek touched hers and she looked at him closely against the light of the moon as he slept in her arms. He was quite a beautiful baby in the moonlight, almost doll-like with the porcelain skin, pitch-black hair, and bright green eyes when he opened them.

Lily went to set him down, but not before kissing him also on the forehead. To her surprise, a tear fell from her eye onto his cheek. The feeling of dread would not leave her, even when she was holding him alive and well in her arms. She felt so helpless as she wiped the tear from his cheek and hesitantly set him down into the crib next to his brother. Maybe it had been the nightmare, but she feared letting him go, afraid that if she would to turn her head, he would disappear forever.

She almost even picked him up again, wanting to take them both to the master bedroom, where she felt them to be safer. It seemed a good idea, just for tonight. But she shook the thought from her head, knowing if she did take them there tonight, she would do it for the next night, and the night after that and so forth until probably when they were forty. James nudged her to come back with him and she turned to leave with him.

"Maybe we should take them back with us.. just for tonight." James said noting her hesitation.

Lily turned to him "For tonight they would be safe, but what if I have this dream tomorrow, and the night after that?" she said holding tightly onto his arms. "He will always be waiting for another opportunity."

The two returned back to the bedroom where the both of them just sat on the bed in silence. After a long pause, the both of them turned their heads to each other at the same time and opened their mouths as if to speak, but stopped seeing that the other had wanted to say something. They both laughed and the both of them set their heads to their pillows. They stared at the ceiling together for another long moment in time before James would speak up.

"I'm thinking about giving up on the Auror thing when this is all over." James said aloud.

Lily immediately sat up to stare at him, to see if he was pulling her leg. "Huh?"

"Dumbledore has offered me a position to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. " He said in a nonchalant manner.

There was another pause, and having just realized what he said, she rose up to see if he was joking.

"But isn't being an Auror the thing you've always wanted?"

He grinned, "It was.. but things change, people change. I don't think I get to spend much time with you or the twins as much as I would like, besides I don't want to end up like Barty Crouch." He said still looking to the ceiling.

She settled back down to the bed, going back to staring at the ceiling with her husband. There was a tiny crack in the ceiling she had never noticed before. She would have to fix it in the morning with a charm.

She smiled at the thought of James teaching their children at Hogwarts. "It would be nice, wouldn't it?"

He smiled back "I'll send an owl first thing in the morning."

Lily closed her eyes and for the first time in the past five nights dreamed something different for once. She dreamed happily, watching her twins grow up to be strong wizards like their herself and their father. It was a short-lived dream though, since soon after, a loud explosion rocked the house, shaking both of them awake and out of their beds. Lily paled, knowing the source of the explosion to come from the upstairs, very near the nursery. The dream began to play back in her head, as she grabbed her wand and looked to James, just before bolting from the bedroom and heading towards the upstairs nursery. She fought the nausea of knowing that this time things were going to be different when she reached that door and found it locked…


	3. Chapter 2

**Authors beginning note**: _When I was first writing this, Voldermort sounded like one of those stereotypical supervillians on superhero action shows. I had thought about keeping the ridiculous dialogue it had in just cause it was funny to me, but then after reading it a couple times, um…yeah. He doesn't talk as much now..._

**Forgot to mention**… _the inspiration to this story came from reading the fanfiction story: __**Fugitive Prince by March Madness**__ go read it. I had mention this in my first author write up but I realized that its not there.. so I'm gonna put it here._

…**Changing Plans…**

Alas… there he stood, a couple of meager steps from one of two possible obstacles that fate and prophecy has set for him. His steps made no sound as he stared at the thing set before him, and thought about the irony of the situation. THIS was not some magical object or creature, nor was it a great wizard like Merlin or Dumbledore. In fact, it didn't even carry a wand for Slytherin's sake, well… not yet anyhow. Was he going to be brought down by THIS? He approached apprehensively still, despite his ego screaming for him to laugh out loud to himself. But before managing another step forward, he stopped, hearing the loud high pitch squeaking of someone's right heel.

"I've waited a long time for this opportunity, Regulas. DON'T ruin it." He whispered harshly with a deadly tone.

The lowly wizard nodded as he nervously silenced his squeaky heel, as well as locking, sealing, and silencing the room after he had come in. "Apologies, your greatness..."

" Where is Pettigrew?" he spat out again with coldness to his tone.

A grotesque rat with patches of fur missing scurried across the floor and the animagus transformed into a cowering Pettigrew who quickly answered with his arm blocking his head, as of prepared for a lashing of some sort.

"Ri, right here.. master."

"Very well…" He said with a sigh as he stared with the look of death and dismay at the two incompetents.

Pettigrew paced around the room nervously, Voldermort knew of his fear and that this was to be the fateful night in which those he had cared for in his years at Hogwarts will forever mark him as traitor. Black meanwhile was adjusting his slick black hair, secretly hiding his nervousness which clearly shown through the shaking of his hands and legs. This man was clearly one who had been at the right time, and now was waiting to reap the rewards for his incredulous luck. The two looked to him for orders with darty eyes. Voldermort merely shook his head as he looked away. Of all his loyal, most trusted, and not to mention "more intelligible" servants.. it was these two who had led him to this pivotal moment and place. He could do nothing but shake his head to the irony, and step forward.

The full moon shown brightly through the clear glass panels of the nursery window, sending its focused beams to the crib as if to make the object glow and seem saintly. The reflected light from the crib gave the room and its inhabitants an eerie sort of glow. Pettigrew nervously bit his nails while Regulas shifted from one foot to the other, brushing his hair back with his fingers every now and then again, looking everywhere but the crib that stood directly in front of him. Neither seemed confident for being there and Voldermort wondered if he should just kill them for having such feelings of doubt within them. Nothing could stop him, now that he was so close, and he could not help but wonder how fortunate that luck should smile on him and give him the edge to wipe out his one true enemy before it would be strong enough to do anything to him. He trifled with the thought of letting the thing live, just to give him somewhat of a challenge in the future. But this thought quickly faded with him envisioning a saintly faceless hero teaming up with Dumbledore to vanquish him in one dramatic blow.

He shuttered at the annoyance of the thought. It would be better this way, to snub out the threat before it was able to manifest and cause future annoyances. Dumbldore was annoying enough. Wand first, he peered into the crib to look at his future enemy with a sinister grin. The grin though, did not last long with the discovery of two infants sleeping inside that crib instead of one. He blinked, thinking it must have been some sort of magic he had no knowledge of.

"Twins!" He exclaimed, not being able to hide his shock of surprise.

He whipped his face at Pettigrew and Black who stared at him confused and dumbfounded. As Pettigrew attempted words he fumbled into garbled nonsense and Black merely just shrugged as he looked inside at the two infants "The prophecy I heard specifically stated only one boy my lord. Perhaps it's a trick?"

Voldermort could do nothing but give a laugh as he calmed down; the possibility of a future rival has gone up by one. That was all there was to it. The only part of the plan that has changed is that two infants would be killed instead of one tonight. His face recovered to show the cool mask of indifference as he faced his two servants.

"No matter, they are both in the same place. Two instead of one shall die."

Both Black and Pettigrew gave a laugh as well but the laughs were full of fear and nervousness. Voldermort could feel the blanket of tension that filled the room, and both looked to leave at the slightest noise. Voldermort stared at the both of them and they both stopped fidgeting, looking away. Frustration and annoyance was all he could think of as he stared at the two imbeciles. Besides the most precious information that these two had given them, they were of no use to him. He thought of what would happen if aurors were to ever capture them, and what they would do for their freedom. Just by looking at their weary faces he knew what their weak minds would do in a blink. As he planned the twins would not live through the night, he planned for these two to not live through the night as well.

He turned back to stare into the crib at the twins who breathed deeply in ignorant slumber. Which one would be the first victim of the night? The plump strawberry blond with his thumb stuck to his lips or the thinner darker haired one who seemed ghastly in the moonlight with his pale skin. Voldermort drifted his wand over to the darker spiky haired infant, brushing its hair with his wand. Subconsciously, he had always thought his future rival to seem more like this infant, and it even reminded him of pictures of him when he had been small. He gave a sinister smile and spoke out his favorite curse while staring at the infant.

"Avada Kedavra"

The spell shot out and his eyes followed the green flash of light striking the small infant. The spell seared an electric green onto the skin but delved no deeper and the infant flashed opened its bright green eyes, crying in surprise and pain. Immediately he knew… something was wrong. The infant should have died right with the spell's impact, instead the spell leapt about on the skin as if it were a solar flare and it's skin was the sun. The thought of the spell reflecting back onto him made him begin to cast a charm at himself, casting a spell that would turn his body into a shadow of itself. The killing spell leaped about on the forehead of the infant once more before it bounded right back at him, just as he had suspected. His spell casting was not as quick as he had thought and a touch of the curse kissed him before tearing through him just as his own counter spell was enabled, attempting to transform him into a shadow form of himself. The power of the spell attempted to rip his soul out from him but he fought it diligently with all his strength and won by a slight margin. The spell went through him then, having no real substance to touch now, allowing him to live.

Regulas Black on the other hand, who had not been so quick to observe or understand the situation and had been cowering behind him, was struck in the neck with the spell before he could utter a single sound of surprise. The body fell limp and the dark green glow of the scar on his neck faded to a dull emerald green. The soul that was left behind as the body collapsed, stared at Voldermort only momentarily in shock before it faded into the realm of the dead. A coward that he was, and now thinking that his master has also died, Pettigrew panicked and transformed into his animagus form and scurried out of the room without looking back. His spell soon faded, and Voldermort nearly fell limp himself with weakness. He had fought the spell with most of his strength and left him feeling as weak as the infants inside the crib.

Minutes passed by like years as Voldermort beckoned his strength back little by little until he was strong enough to stand using the crib as his crutch and his anger with Pettigrew and his current situation as fuel for his strength. If anyone had happened upon him right that moment… he knew he would not be able to defend nor even attack. He would have been lucky if he could even manage a stand on his own. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head to the source of the only sound in the room. The crying infant who had awakened his sleeping twin, who also began to cry. He stared at the infant with the scar that still flickered with energy on his forehead and pondered on what he was to do next.

Whatever he had to do… he had to do it quickly since the spells Regulas cast were now quickly fading. The noise inside the room could now be heard on the outside. The bright green eyes of the infant focused on him and it suddenly quieted, his brother in turn quieted and went back to sleep suckling on it's thumb.

"What a strange child." He said to himself as they both stared at one another.

He thought about escaping but was stalled in this instinctual thought, as thoughts of this child's future and how Dumbledore and the foolish parents would raise this one to destroy him. What power was this that would reflect his most powerful curse back on to him? He knew he must figure it out, and soon, if his dreams of a new dawn were to ever be accomplished. But he had such a short amount of time, he could feel the seconds slipping from him. He must do something and he must do it now.

One single clear thought rang past his hectic thoughts. "But what if this… thing is raised in a different environment?"

He stared at the boy as thoughts and plans began to form in his head. Raised under the Potters and Dumbledore, the prophecy would come true and the boy would most likely destroy him, especially in his current state. But what if he were to take this boy as he escaped? What if he raised this boy and trained him to fight for his cause…? He could find what power it was and maybe learn to counteract it, especially with the child living with him. No matter what, if he takes this child now… The tides would be turned, the prophecy could be nulled, and his boy would become his greatest weapon against Dumbledore and all those who were behind the old man.

His strength was returning to him, but not fast enough he felt… he

was not even at a quarter of his full strength. He went to pick up the living boy by the foot but stopped as he touched the boy. His fingertips felt as if they were burning thus making his hand pull away.

He hissed at the added pain, and scowled "If you think this will sstop me!" he whispered harshly as he took a blanket and wrapped the baby within the blanket without touching it.

With his wand he pointed and transformed the infant into a simple garter snake, and took both the blanket and the infant and set them into the bottomless inside pockets of his robes. He pointed his wand towards the window and blew out the wall entirely. Scraps from the wall/window blew both ways and a piece of broken glass flew and glided along the top right brow of the strawberry haired infant, thus making him scream with a shrill and cry in pain, and his own blood stained the sheets of the crib. The noise of the wall shattering was louder than he imagined, but he didn't care anymore. All he had to do now was jump out from the window, outside the anti-apparation barrier the house had, and apparate to whichever destination he wanted.

Before leaving though, he looked to the empty side of the crib where the baby had once been and then looked to the dead body of Regulas Black. His mind began twisting and turning like a mechanical clock as he pointed his wand at the dead body. If he left like this, of course the potters and the rest of the wizarding world would be after him for this child, they will continue living with the thought that this child was living and find unknown strength to search him out and take him back from Voldermort. He had to snub all hope of this infant being alive, despite him feeling weak, and his powers limited, he felt up to the task of another transfiguration.

The vision of the infant filled his mind, and in seconds he transfigured the body to a mirror image of the boy, and picked it up by the foot. The form was almost perfect except for the fact that the scar was on the neck instead above the left brow, something he could not change… but who besides him would notice? He picked up the body by the left foot, and raised it high above him looking at the fine transfiguration he managed in his current state. The noise of rushing footsteps approaching made him look to the door waiting for the parents, and their looks of horror on what he planned to do.

Some seconds of silence pass when the footsteps stopped just on the other side, and the doors bursted open with wands in both of the parent's arms. He faced them and set up a magical barrier momentarily between them all and stared at them both with one of his many cruel smiles. His eyes looked to Lilly Potter's the longest before he turned to the transfigured body, and let go.

Before the body could reach the floor, he had already made the lunge for the outside through the hole he made, and as he was falling down to the damp, plush grass, the eerie sound of a thump which was followed by an unnatural cracking sound which echoed through the quickly waning night. The silence that followed was interrupted by his own landing, in which he did rather ungracefully. With his remaining strength he had regained he hobbled to the edges of the barrier and apparated away. His only last regret as he apparated, was not being able to see the faces of the potters as he dropped the corpse.

----

**The Aftermath**

James in his fit of rage and shock had jumped out the hole to chase after the obviously weak Voldermort, but came back with tears welling up and snot running down his nose. He had caught the glimpse of the hobbling monster before it apparated. The sight he came back to was Lilly still holding their dead son, and a hysterical Stephan still bleeding and crying in the crib. He healed the cut but a small tiny red line of a scar remained, splitting his right brow in two. Stephan quieted, and he picked up his remaining infant son, and fell down to his knees where his wife lay still cradling Harry. There was nothing he could say to comfort her, but there was only one thing he could do, and that was to sit and mourn with her on the passing of their son.

Soon the Ministry would come, but not before Dumbledore and the Order. Pettigrew would be found and captured, sent to Azkaban without trial, and forgotten to rot. James would note the weakened state of Voldermort, and that coupled with Stephan being left scratched but relatively unharmed, the Ministry dubs him as _the boy who lived_. Dumbledore notes the scar above his right brow, left by Voldermort when he blasted the wall, as _the mark_ from the prophecy and notes him as the one who will vanquish Voldermort. A memorial will soon be set up for Harry Potter and all the victims of the war. Voldermort will have disappeared since the incident without so much as a trace and many will assume his eventual demise. The wizarding world will begin to live comfortably again and the wizarding history afterwards pretty much follows that of the books.

Weakened and never fully recovered, Voldermort goes to hiding, biding until the time is right for him. He tries to figure out the power he knows not of in Harry but soon abandons the effort and raises Harry as his own. Harry is given a new name, Evan Gauntless. Many of the remaining Death Eaters that have not been captured or killed go on with their usual lives, pretending to have never known the dark lord, and yet wait patiently for a sign..


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:** _Well I got to rewriting this story so it's on the smoother and not so bad to look at. Today's date is April 27, 2007 btw, revision number 1. There may come a three or four one day when I'm having a bit of writers block and want to see where I'm actually going with this story. _

He entered silently not even letting the old oak door that separated him from the hall and his father's study, let out its usual creak. Shutting the door behind him, he proceeded to move in a sluggish manner across the room towards the desk, where he slipped from his pocket, a small glass vial with its clear watery contents swishing inside. He set the glass vial down onto the desk with his eyes prying upon a thick letter addressed to one "Evan Gauntless, down to the very room in which he stood in now.

"How peculiar" he thought out loud, noting the oddity that the envelope was not addressed to his own room, but then again.. in the month since his father and his arrival to this new 'home' he has not even entered the room. He wondered if he could remember what door it was, but to do that he would have to remember which floor it was on to begin with.

Throwing away that stray thought, he picked up the letter, seeing that it was addressed to him, and proceeded to the nearest armchair which sat indirectly in front of the desk, next to a ceiling tall window with its curtains drawn. On the way there he bumped the edge of a random trunk that sat idly between them, twisting around just to fall into the armchair. With the slight wave of the hand, one side of the curtains gave way, letting in the early morning light of the sun, just as it peaked out from the horizon. In the light of the sun, he realized he still had his white death eather's mask on, to which he removed, glancing at the ivory white that glowed with a soft white when exposed to the light, and its narrow eye sockets, defined nose... very different from all other death eater's masks. He touched the long black scar on the mask, that resembled the cracks of color in a marble stone, vertically from the very top of the mask, directly across the left eye socket and then down past the bottom edges of the chin. This was a new addition to his mask, caused by the recent battle with a very old wizard and his powerful pet phoenix. He had encountered the in the ancient labyrinth of caves his father sent him to. to retrieve the vial. If he hadn't left when he had the chance, those two would of broken through his mask and found his face, something they seemed so anxious to do for some reason.

He rubbed the scar on the mask and then his own, just above his left brow in an afterthought before putting the mask into one of his many hidden robe pockets. When he looked up, he saw his father standing at the desk, examining the vial, swishing the contents inside. His father looked to him, and then backs to the vial in satisfaction. He took note of the letter in Evan's hand when he opened his mouth to speak.

"It came for you the day after your departure." He said, not choosing to comment on how Evan arrived three days later than the appointed day he was to return. Or even about the new addition to his mask if he happened to see it.

'He will probably bring it up later around dinner,' Evan thought pretending to be curious about the letter's arrival.

He opened the envelope, and the parchments inside. A train ticket fell to the ground as he looked to the first parchment, the acceptance into the prestigious the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts. Along with the letter, the remaining parchments were of supplies he would need for the year (and the five years prior to that year). There was also another signed letter requesting him to take a weeklong examination that would start the day after his arrival to the school with the other students.

He took note of the departure date and where he would have to go to catch the train, and gave a small laugh. "It seems that I won't make it in time," he said tossing the parchments to the side, seeing today is already September the first."

His father rubbed his chin, "so it seems, but the train is still there, seeing that you have still two hours time to catch the train. Plenty of time."

The parchments that had fallen to the wooden floor, flew up on a gust of invisible wind, right back into Evan's hand. In this father's hand, a wand in which he tossed over at Evan. Evan's mouth, which had dropped at the mention of him making the train there, closed once the wand whipped across the room, and into his other hand. He twirled the wand between his fingertips and stared at his father.

"HUH?"

"You'll need that"

The wand stopped its twirling to stand vertically at the tip of this middle finger, his hand lay on the arm of the chair, palm up. "Why?"

"All the students have one, and you'll be just like any ordinary student. In fact, it is best that you practice a little with the wand before you do some real damage, even thought it may be incidental." His father said with a small smirk, Evan believed he meant opposite of what he said just then. "Dumbledore has his suspicions about you and I, and it is your job to make sure they are quelled with your being the most average of students."

"Father, what exactly are you planning?"

"What I've always been planning. This will be like any task I ask of you, but a little less challenging. Think of it as the calm before the storm, a little vacation if you will, since all of your years of excellent service to me as my son. Go to the school, attend, and wait for a sign from me. There is another matter I have to deal with, but you are not needed for that." His father said stepping from behind his desk and to the runk Evan had bumped into. His eyes seemed distant, drawing more questions for Evan. A bad feeling came creeping at his spine, raising the hair in the back of his neck as it did so.

He attempted a yawn, trying to shrug off the feeling, but the yawn stifled as the feeling stayed. Evan closed his yes momentarily, thinking about what his father was not telling him. While he did, his father came up to him, barely touching the edges of his pitch-black locks. There was a slight burning smell that made him open his eyes and his father's hand pull away. They stared silently towards one another and Evan stood, reaching for the trunk he knew was meant for him. His father had probably planned it since he left for that vial a week prior.

"I've got a bad feeling about this" he said with a tired expression.

"You always do, but somehow you always manage."

Evan opened his mouth to say something , but decided not o, opting for manually opening the ttunk with his hands and chucking the parchments into it. He noticed everything he needed lay inside the trunk, down to the perfectly tailored school robes and potion ingredients. There as even a broom, making his eyebrows raise in curiosity. His father didn't seem to notice.

"If there are a few items in which you feel that you are missing, like an owl, you will find them at Diagon Alley inside muggle London. Also if you find that wand a bit unsuitable, in which I believe you will, you can trade it in at the wand shop there as well. " He said as he waived his hand and the single train ticket that had fallen earlier appeared in his hand.

There was also a piece of parchment with the map of the city inked on directing him from Diagonally to the muggle train station, King's Cross. He looked at both momentarily before grabbing his trunk and turning to leave.

Oddly, his father stopped him, putting his hand on Evan's shoulder with his back turned. Evan spun around, "You do know that you are still wearing that Death Eater's cloak?"

Evan grinned, for a second there he thought his father was going to be like other children's fathers, saying 'goodbye' and 'goodluck', but he knew better. He gave a short laugh before he pulled of the robes to reveal no weapons, tools, or even some light armor that would protect him from the tasks his father always sent him on. Instead, he wore just a simple black t-shirt with a pair of soft tan corduroys. He slipped the ticket and map into one pocket, and his wand into a back pocket while taking note of his father's puzzlement before he took the trunk, turning away as he popped into Diagon Alley.

His father merely went over to his desk, sat down, and let out a long troubled sigh. He could feel the bad feeling creeping up his spine too; there was just something about his time going away that would not be like all the other times. From the corner of his eyes, he caught Nagani coming from a hole beneath a shelf in a nearby bookcase, and slithering onto the warm spot on the armchair Evan had left for her.

"Nagani isssssurrrreee Massstersssire will comme baaack too himmmsss"

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

He appeared as if stepping out from Knockturn Alley and fumbled around Diagon Alley looking for either the animal emporium or the wand shop his father mentioned. It would be the wand shop he found first, or in his case, the wand shop owner who found him when an old man with glasses half the size fo his head bumped into him. The narrow wand boxes he had stacked up in his old wrinkled arms went out and about, in every which way on the alley floor. The old man scrambled for a wand, and Evan pulled and waived his new wand about in a half twirl, trying to recall verbal spells he now used instinctively.

The wands, which had gone out of their boxes, shot right back in like bullets, gling right through the actual boxes and leaving little holes behind, and then set themselves right in fron of the old man who had by then, retrieved a wand, which was now attached to a box.

Evan shrugged at the pile saying to himself, "eh…. Close enough."

He attempted to walk away after that, but the old man stopped him; grabbing his wand hand and taking his wand from him.

The old man then proceeded to examine the wand very carefully as he spoke to himself, "Hmm.. spruce, thirteen and a quarter inches, rather rigid, Sphinx feather. An interesting combination, but not quite a match."

Evan managed a, "Wha…t?", before the old man pointed to his set of wand boxes with Evan's wand.

"Could you?"

He shrugged, taking the boxes of wands stacked neatly in the pile he made and set them on his trunk, telling them to 'stay'. By the time he did turn back to the old man, the old man was already twenty paces away, excitedly rushing over to his wand shop. He rushed to catch up. He eventually came up to the wand shop "Ollivanders' – Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC", and went inside to find the old man taking the store apart looking for whatever he was looking for. He set the boxed of wands onto what he suspected was the counter, half buried with boxed of wands. After that, he proceeded to sit on his trunk with his arms half crossed, staring towards the man's direction and seeing him with an armful of wands, none if which seemed to match is original wand.

Two, ten, and then twenty minutes passes before the man came up to him with the sets of wands for hm to try while building a small pile. They tried every one of them and none of them seemed to satisfy Evan nor (what Evan assumed now was) the wand maker. He wanted to just take his original wand and leave, but suspected his wand now lay at the very bottom of the pile, and sighed whenever the wand maker tossed another wand into the pile. Another twenty minutes passed and there was a second pile. None of those wands set in front of him seemed to have satisfied him and the wand maker in the slightest, again. Evan sighed again and again beginning to tap his feet, a habit his father often found infuriating when he was running out of patience. The old wand maker didn't seem to notice or hear, off in his own world apparently, and if he did happen to notice, paid no mind.

'He must be used to it, ' Evan thought to himself.

Out from the back of the store, the wandmaker was heard mumbling "Hmmm.. very curious, " in a distant voice.

"Curious? About what?" Evan said, feigning interest now; he was leaving this time, he was sure..

He made his nod to leave and went to grab for his wand, taking a guess that it laid somewhere in the first discarded pile of wands, "I'm sorry, but its getting late, and if I wait here any longer I will miss my train."

But the gentleman never came out from his searchings. Evan stood, stretched, and started to pick apart the pile of wands. He could feel all those days he stayed awake in those caves, waiting for the perfect time to take that vial,… catching up with him. He nearly fell back, a little dizzy, but stood again, and yet still staring at the piles of wands. He wondered if he had enough time to find himself an owl, but decided against it when he looked to his pocket watch. He would still have to find that train station alone, and in muggle London of all places. He shivered to himself, thinking about the muggles before he went to the door, grabbing the doorknob.

In that insignificant moment, the most insignificant of things happened. He saw a dusty old box being pushed out from the other side, presumably by the old wand maker, still searching for a wand for him. He could of just continued on his way, there were boxes spread all over the floor and one dropped box was rather pointless for him to pick up; but there was that slight inkling that he could not refuse as she stopped and went to pick it up. He left his belongings for a moment as he did so, seeing that it was just a few paces away. When he went to pick up that poor excuse for a box, he found the wand slipping out, and headed straight for the floor. His reflexes, quicker than a cat at times, grasped the wand, and set it back in its box, putting it back in its place without as much as a second thought. When he let go of the box, he did feel that lslight tingle as if he shouldn't of put it back, on how he should of slipped it into his pockets instead. He looked at the box for a moment before turning back around towards the door.

When he turned again, he found himself face to face with the old gent who only stred back at him gravely with those eerie moonlit eyes. In his hands there lay a crumpled old brown box to which he shakily and excitedly extracted a finely polished wand. "please, just one last wand."

Again, against his better judgment to just leave, he nodded taking the wand to his hand and twirled it about his fingers. Nothing seemed special about the particular wand and he shrugged as the old shopkeeper described the contents of the wand to him.

"Mahogany, twelve and three-quarter inches, sturdy, double twisted augurey tail feather" he said with a grin.

It would be another moment before the old man put his hands to his hips. "well?! Swish it!"

Evan feeling that this was just a waste of time, did a half swish of the wand, half pointing it towards the original pile of wands and calling out for the wand he had originally come with.

"Accio wand."

The pile of wands did not stir, but instead the wand he had put away earlier popped from its box and shot straight into his hand, knocking out the mahogany augurey wand from his hand. The mahogany augurey wand fell, joining the other wands in the second pile. He took a good look at this wand and again, twirled it about his fingers like all the other wands. He did not know why it was this particular wand that flew back into his hands over his other wand, but he didn't seem to mind so much, liking its feel and shape. Evan looked to the old man "since I don't know where my old wand went, I'll pay the difference for this one."

The old shopkeeper face seemed distant along with a faded look to his eyes before he noticed Evan had said anything. He took the wand in his hands examining it very carefully, remembering the fond times making it and an unknown disappointment that showed in his eyes. "Holly, eleven inches, supple with a single phoenix tail feather. Hmm.. who did you say you were again, young man?"

"I didn't. I am Evan Gauntless " Evan spoke with an even tone. " Did you not want to part with it? I'm in quite a hurry to leave now, but whatever the difference is, I'll pay it."

The old gentleman seem to shake himself from his thoughts and spoke as he gave the wand back to Evan, "I had expected to give this wand to one Stephan Potter, but alas, it is not the wizard who chooses the wand, but the wand who chooses the wizard." The old man said looking at Evan directly, "Be it terrible or wondrous, great things are expected from the wizard who holds this wand, Mr. Gauntless."

Evan could only give the wand seller an incredulous look as he said, "If great things are expected with this wand, then… "

But the old shopkeeper would not hear any of hit as he bowed Evan from the store. "That wand is a fair trade if I do say so myself. Good day Mr. Gauntless., and good luck on catching that train."

He could only open his mouth to close it, before taking his trunk and walking out with it. Great things, he thought as he looked to the wand. "How can he expect great things just by the wand he sells me?" he thought to himself, setting the wand into his back pocket, walking along the alley towards the Leaky Cauldron.

With the slight mumble of, "so much for that owl" he left Diagon Ally through the Leaky Cauldron, and wandered into Central London with only the rolled up parchment for a map.

The parchment seemed very old and ragged, with torn edges missing parts to the map. There were several buildings in the map that did not exist and vice versa, but if it was enough to get him from the Leaky Cauldron to Kings Cross Station, he didn't care. To make his travel quicker and easier, he magic-ed his trunk to float alongside behind him as if it were on soundless wheels, and opted to hop along the rooftops of buildings. Some muggle passerby's pointed every now and then but he would be gone before their fingers straightened for the point.

He did hop onto a bulky mechanical contraption in which muggles used to travel and carry large items on to hitch a ride, but ended up on the streets walking along with everyone else within a block or two of the station. A little muggle girl noticed his wheel-less trunk when he jumped down from the bulky mechanical contraption, but her silly muggle mother paid no mind like muggle parents often did when they hear something incredulous from the mouths of their young offspring.

He later unmagicked the trunk and began to drag it around on the muggle walkway to be a little less conspicuous. Sure it scrapped along the ground and Evan looked rather silly in the way he dragged it along with one arm and looking at his ticket with the other. When he arrived between platforms nine and ten, he could only scratch his head, wondering to ask a muggle worker if wizarding platforms lay anywhere else. Once or twice he was tempted to ask, but stopped himself knowing it would be useless just by looking at their faces. In the end he opted to sit down on his trunk by the column which separated the two muggle platforms, and wait for likely candidates who where headed to the same train he was.

None came and it worried him, he wondered if he was already too late, and the train could be leaving. In his worry he bent his head back to knock it against the column, but the hard surface of the column never came, making him fall backwards and onto the hard cement floor. Surprised, he stood and found himself between portals, where the column had been. He looked to where he fell and found Hogwarts Express, the train bellowing its black smoke, and students filling inside with their families on the outside waving to them.

He looked at his clock, and with alarm, quickly got his trunk and began to run over to the train. If it left on the dot as most usually trains do, he had not even a minute to spare before the train would start its move. With amazing skill and ease he managed to fish through the crowd of family right in time to catch the train moving away from him. In one of the last cabooses he spotted an open window, just big enough for his trunk. Since he had little to no choices left for him he mustered up the rest of his trunk and tossed it in, without thinking to who it may have been inside. The train picked up speed and he winged it, leaping from the edge of the platform and just grasping the edges of the window.

It was the hardest pull up of the day and was glad he wore no cloak to weigh him down, pulling in first his right arm, followed by his left as the train picked up speed. His arms straightened and he pulled forward, dropping into a roll, where he knocked into his trunk, got up and found himself a seat opposite of two very stunned Hogwarts students.

"Is this your first year too?"

**Last notes: **_See something amiss? Errors, some really really bad grammer problems or just hate it/love it? Leave a comment. ;p_


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** I hope this story was a smooth read, cause it wasn't such a smooth write. ;p Also i didn't think this fiction would be a long one, but seeing that its the fifth chapter and i just got to the train section... please be patient? sorry. Also thank you for all the reviews!

They had been talking about their summer break, what they did together and what they missed out on since their last meeting. The train had begun its movement, slow and steady before beginning to gain speed when all of a sudden, through their open window, a trunk came flying though, landing neatly just past their feet. In those few moments neither of them moved before Ginny Weasley reached out to touch it. That would be around the time a young man came rolling through, and knocking into what they presumed to be his trunk.

He lay there for a second or two, with a faint and heavy breath, before rising up and moving to sit across from them as if he had just walked through the compartment door. His face was a very pleasant sight to look at, that and how it could make others stare with his marble skin, sharp chin, and perfectly shaped nose. But all those features seem to pale in comparison with his bright talented eyes, which flickered with a bright green that could rival even Mrs. Potter's eyes. Ginny could only sit and stare with her friend, Rosalyn (Roz for short) Potter, at the mysterious student they had never seen before.

He broke the silence with an awkward, "This your first year too?"

Roz nearly fell from the randomness of the comment. "um… no. We're fifth years. How did you do that?"

He rubbed his chin slightly "Well, the train was leaving, so I ran.." he made a running motion with his arms, "and jumped after I threw that in."

He pointed to the trunk very matter of factly. Roz went to the window and looked out, closing it after she did. "Just in case you had some friends."

Everyone laughed and to hear his laugh was a delight. His laugh rang throughout the room seeping right into both their hearts before he randomly stood to grab his trunk. It seems he only chose to sat to catch his breath momentarily before heading out.

"Well, I'm off, sorry to disturb you." He said as he went to the compartment door.

Both Ginny and Rose stared at one another before Ginny cried out a weak "wait…!"

He stopped, and turned his head toward them.

Both of them shook their head, "If you want you can stay here. Most of the compartments are already full."

He didn't say another word but went back to sitting across from them. Roz took it upon herself to introduce themselves. "I'm Roz Potter, and this is my best friend Ginny Weasley."

The young man broke into a long yawn "Sorry, didn't get a wink of sleep last night. Evan Gauntless."

"Didn't catch a wink? What could you have possibly have been… " Rose stopped herself and blushed.

Evan laughed waving his hand, and looking to the window with droopy eyes. "No, no, nothing of that nature… The times between there and here are as different as day and night.. I just haven't had the time to adjust that's all."

Ginny's eyes brightened. She's never met anyone outside of Great Britain before. "You must be a transfer student then. Hogwarts gets at least one every couple of years. Where was your last school? You can still transfer into the same year that you left you know."

She would of continued asking him what year he left off at, but stopped seeing him nod off to the sun's warm rays. Rose stood and waved her hand in front of his sleeping face, but he never stirred. She even went as far as to touch him, but Ginny stopped her by pulling her back.

"C'mon Roz he's obviously tired."

"too tired to talk to two beautiful ladies like us? I think he's one of those 'were' folk like Moony." Roz said giving him a closer inspection. "there better not be a full moon tonight"

Ginny pushed at Roz "Oh please Roz, you're just mad that he hasn't started drooling over you., and a full moon isn't expected for another two weeks."

"That IS strange…isn't it? Do you think he might be a bit.. _molly_?"

Ginny laughed "No way, he's just too… "

"too what? I think you like him." Roz chided, having caught her in her stumble of words.

Ginny blushed slightly, but only slightly, until she came to realize something else. "You like him too, don't you?"

Roz gave a wide grin. Her hazel eyes gave a sparkle and a twinkle of delight. "Of course you know what this means."

Ginny returned only a confused look as Roz pointed her wand at her. "I challenge you Ginny Weasley to a duel to the death."

Both girls laughed out loud until they remembered they were in a compartment with Evan sleeping across from them. He was still as a statue and his face was void of any expression. He seemed very much like a living doll that's been put aside for the moment. As they both spoke to one another Ginny would often catch herself glancing towards Evan past the edges of her eyesight. She told herself it was to make sure he was still asleep, but there was something to her that told her she was catching to see if he was still there.

A little while later the compartment doors open to show Stephen Potter entering with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger in tow. Behind them as Ron shut the door, a crowd of students floated about trying to catch a peak of the inside. There seem to be an alarming more students than the usual Stephen groupies who followed him about like devotees.

Roz pointed to the crowd "That's a bit more than the usual isn't it?" she commented tilting her head as the door shut.

Stephen pointed to the sleeping Evan "Some students say they saw something jump into your compartment as the train kicked off. You two okay? Is this the Perp? Want me to remove him for you?" he said looking at Evan in a very threatening manner.

He went to take a good look at Evan, and even went as far as to wake him before Hermione stopped him " Honestly Stephen, He doesn't even look dangerous. Ron could probably take him on a good day."

It took Ron a moment to catch her comment.

"…HEY"

Everyone laughed out loud and Roz stood to pull Stephen down to where she and Ginny were sitting. Stephen seemed to forget about Evan as soon as he looked to Ginny with smitten eyes. Ginny put her hands on his face "You can put those eyes away Stephen, cause its never gonna happen."

Anger flashed in his eyes. "I just don't get you. Any girl would kill for a chance to be with me."

Ginny laughed "Well then you can ask them out then, I'll stick to average window jumping joes like him." She pointed to the sleeping Evan.

Stephen laughed louder "You would choose _him_ over _**me**_? Who would choose anyone else but me? Besides I KNOW you are joking."

Now everyone was quiet as the intensity of their conversation grew and got louder. Every now and then Ron would whisper something to Hermione and she would whisper back to him while Roz squirmed uncomfortably in the corner next to the window as she looked out pretending that the landscape was much more interesting than their conversation. It had been a bad idea to pull her brother and Ginny close to one another. Roz eventually came and joined Ron and Hermione in whisperings letting Ginny and Stephen have at it like they usually did when put in a room together. Eventually like always Stephen would end up pounding on a wall and leaving, probably to heal a bit of his bruised ego that Ginny would tear down.

"So who's the new guy?" Ron asked pointing to sleeping Evan.

"Evan Gauntless. I think he may be distantly related to the Gaunts, but I thought that family died out generations ago." Roz said, noting the root of his last name.

"Gaunts?" Hermione whispered curious. Being a muggle born she knew little to nothing about wizarding families.

"The Gaunts were one of the most pure blooded wizarding families dating back to Merlin's age. They were known for their square jaws and chins that grew with each generation." Roz explained, using her hand to extend her chin by leaps and bounds "I heard they were so far inbreeded that sisters would marry brothers. "

All siblings in the room looked to one another and shook at such a gruesome thought.

"I could never imagine myself falling for my... brother" Roz said with her tongue out to Stephen.

He returned her look with his finger pulling his right eye downwards and sticking out his own tongue "Gross"

Hermione shook her head, and got back on topic. "Are you sure he isn't just like me? I mean why would an old wizarding family such as that just pop up after so many years of being practically non-existent."

Evan stirred for the first time in his sleep, as if his name had aroused him slightly. They all stopped talking about it for a bit, feeling a bit embarrassed about talking about him while he was still in the room with them. He didn't stop stirring, seemingly caught in a rough part in his dreams. Ginny stopped a bit as if realizing how loud their argument had gotten but Stephen was still crossed with his arms folded; he didn't care.

As they traveled the sun began its sink into the horizon and distant

clouds approached. Evan's face, once blank, was now filled with pain. His skin was no longer a fair complexion of marble, but instead paled the hollowed type that darkened his eyes. Every now and then he would shift or his arms would randomly spasm as if he had caught himself in a fall of some sort, or was bracing for a hit. Rain began to fall, and his worrisome behavior continued.

Ginny gave a worried look "Should we wake him? It looks as if he's having a nightmare."

"We are almost at school now, and he should get his school robes on before we leave…" Roz excused biting her lip.

Lighting crashed and Evan's arm sprang outward, right into to the window, crashing through with shards of glass and blood flying about a meter radius from the source. One pretty long piece of glass which broke away had flown towards the unknowing Roz, but Evan who had awoken with the noise seemed to catch it with his other hand, cutting at his hand as he did. She unshielded herself just in time to catch a glimpse of the glass just inches from her eyes before Evan dropped it in front of her. It clattered when it struck the ground and he unstuck his arm from the glass window and carefully as he could, grimacing a bit but not as much as they would expect someone who had just struck his arm through a window to react. Rain and wind poured into the compartment dousing Evan with cold rain, and dilutiong the blood that poured down from his arms. His dark hair became soaked instantly along with his shirt and pants, and revealing the firm subtle build of muscle. Maybe Ron couldn't take him, even on a bad day…

Roz fainted as everyone began to absorb the situation. Ginny ran over to her to try and wake her, but when she went to grab her, she suddenly felt weak for the first time. It took her a moment to realize that she too, was bleeding with a deep gash with a large piece of glass sticking from her leg that had been facing the window before it shattered.

Stephen also noticed, with rage filling his eyes as he rushed over towards Evan and grabbed him by the collar screaming, "Give me a good reason not to pummel you right here where we stand."

Hermione with Ron ran towards them, trying to separate Stephen from the obviously still confused Evan. They were halfway there when Evan's green eyes gave a rather sinister glint, and Stephen's body flew back knocking them down onto the ground. Ron took most of the blow, having pushed Hermione slightly out of the way. She flushed slightly at his kindness as she got up and glanced at him and Stephen. She then turned to Evan, who had now twirled a dark mahogany wand around his fingertips with the hand that had stopped the glass from hitting Roz. The other hand looked rather limp as blood seemed to gush and flow, dripping down onto the floor.

"You should know what you're dealing with before you start pulling tricks like that" he replied softly to Stephen.

Stephen rose with his anger skyrocketing with his wand already out. Ron who was crumpled under him, grumbled as he held him back. "STEPHEN, get a hold of yourself!"

Evan extended his wand and whispered a spell right under his breath that no one could catch. The glass flew every which way and placed itself neatly back onto the window with its bits of blood and sealed as if Evan never broke it apart. The glass from Ginny's leg flew out from her leg in such a quick manner, Ginny never even felt it leave, but she did notice that the blood increased its flow with nothing in the way to stop it's flow. She looked to Evan and saw the same, he wouldn't be able to stand soon, or even stay conscious for that matter. The bits of blood that where on the pieces were sealed in with the glass and left intricate lines like a spider's web on the window.

Distracted by what Evan had done, Ron loosened his grip and the still furious Stephen charged with his wand out, shouting out "Expelliarmus!"

The spell shot out like a bullet but barely missed Evan, hitting the window since he had fallen on his own accord, having fainted from the bloodloss as Ginny and predicted. It bounced, and hit Ron, who was then thrown back across the compartment and separated from his wand. Hermione ran over to him finding him knocked out cold by the wall. Anger swelled up inside her and she binded Stephen with "Petrificus Totalus". Stunned, Stephen's body went frigid and he fell backwards like a wooden log bouncing once on the seats before falling face down on the ground.

She looked to Ginny, the only one left that wasn't unconscious "Keep an eye on them, I'm going to get Mr. And Mrs. Potter. They'll know what to do."

Ginny nodded glancing to the fallen Evan "Hurry, Evan's lost a lot of blood."

Hermione nodded before running out and leaving the compartment door open. Ginny could only sigh as she tried waking Roz with a slight shaking on the shoulders. Every now and then she gave Stephen the most disgusted of looks wishing that her leg wasn't hurt so she could kick his pompus stubborn head, hoping to knock a few screws into place in there. Since shaking did not seem to help, she resorted to using a charm, pointing her wand to Roz and calling out "suscitatio".

Instantly Roz's eyes twittered open and she rose looking to Ginny and everything around them. "Why is everyone down except us?"

"You fainted dear, now help me up and lets go check on Ron and Evan." Ginny said attempting to rise with her injured leg.

"What about Stephen?" Roz asked pointing to her brother "Why's he bound like that?"

Ginny could only roll her eyes "For being a troll, he's the reason Ron's out like a light"

Roz sat Ginny down on one of the seats and proceeded to kick her brother before unbinding him.

"Oooow" he grunted with a half whine.

"Are you going to behave big brother?" she asked with her mother's stance and her hands at her sides.

"I thought you two were seriously injured!" he exclaimed defiantly "besides did you see that evil glint in his eyes when he knocked me down? Malicious. Does he even know who I am?"

Roz could only shake her head "Nevermind, just wait til mom and dad hear about this." She said adding the taunt, " you're gonna get in trouble..."

Stephen got up with a pout and crossed his arms with a grumble looking rather sour towards Evan's direction. He wasn't as mad as he was before, but he still had his suspicions about that new kid. There was just something about him that rubbed him the wrong way. His anger rose again when he saw Ginny getting off her seat and rolling the guy over onto his back. She looked at that guy with eyes she had never given to any other guy, the look that every other girl seemed to give him except her. It seems she wasn't kidding around when she mentioned that guy. He would of given anything to get that look for him ever since her first year, and yet here he was looking at her giving the look to some guy she just met, a guy who broke the window and gave her the huge gash that ran down her leg. He stood looking away from her, and left, slamming the door behind him as he did.

"HEY! You can't just leave like that!" Roz called after him, but he never returned and she turned to Ron, and woke him with "suscitatio". He woke sitting straight up with a dazed look, not knowing where he was really.

"what? Who?" he asked a bit dizzy still.

"Stephen's expelliarmus refliected back from the window and hit you square in the chest" Roz explained

"what about Hermione?!… Stephen?"

The train stopped and Roz's mom and dad arrived dressed in their professor robes as they rushed in, Mrs. Potter first. Correction, when they were wearing their professor robes Mrs. Potter donned the name Professor Evans, while Mr. Potter changed to Professor Potter. They had first kept their last names the same the first year they taught together but it had been a very confusing year. Mrs. Potter used her maiden name after that, and everything has been dandy since, well with the exception of the first years always being shocked that they were married to begin with. They fought every moment they had together about each other's teaching practices.

Professor Evans rushed over to where Ginny and Evan were first, following the trail of blood. She took one good look at Ginny and immediately put a stop to the bleeding with the point of her wand. Moving onto Evan she gasped, before swearing secretly under her breath with Ginny catching just the end of the swear. Evan had lost a lot of blood, and if weren't for his chest raising slightly up and down with his breathing, Ginny would of already been tearing up taking him for dead.

Professor Evans put her hand on his chest and oddly to Ginny's surprised reaction, let out a single tear that fell onto his face. Professor Evans, caught unaware she quickly wiped the tear from his cheek and looked to Ginny reflecting her own shock and surprise.

"How silly of me, to think of Harry in a situation such as this." She said with a slightly bitter laugh to Ginny before she whisked her wand, making the blood disappear and stopping his bleeding.

"Harry? Who's Har" Ginny began before Roz took a dive and knocked her down.

"ahhh.. Ginny are you feeling well? You did lose a lot of blood there." She said loudly.

Her father put his hand on her shoulder. "Roz honey, its quite alright. Harry was Stephen's twin."

Ginny's eyes grew wide with understanding. Stephens _twin_, He Who Must Not Be Named's last victim. The night before Stephen killed him by rebounding his own killing spell against him. Many say that infant Stephen, having discovered his twin brother dead, struck the dark lord with the same spell that killed his twin brother, while a few others claimed that it was his twins bond and unconditional love that saved him with mysterious twin magic no one knows of. Those that support that rumor say that it's the power of his twin that went into him that night giving the power he has now. There were many other rumors and stories but they never ever once mentioned his twin's name, and even though the Weasley's have been childhood friends with the Potter's, the Weasleys never once brought up the subject of the story, seeing how it was such a sore spot to the Potters.

There was a really long silence that made everyone uneasy for a moment before Professor Evans broke it with an akward laugh. "but enough dwelling on the past, James dear love, would you please help this young man to the hospital wing?"

Professor Potter gave his wife the most endearing look that signified that their love would be one for the ages. From one of his many robe pockets he withdrew a mini stretcher that they would usually use for students in Quidditch games, and enlarged it to fit the limp Evan. He also added the remark "I always one of these would come in handy if I kept them long enough in my pockets"

Professor Evans could only roll her eyes, their moment together gone within the blink. Professor Potter levitated Evan setting him gently on the stretcher before making it float out by itself with him following. Hermione and Roz helped Ron to the hospital wing, who was still a bit groggy and achy from having been a cushion to Stephen and then being thrown across the compartment. Meanwhile Professor Evans helped the limping Ginny on her way to the hospital where Madame Pomfrey would tend to their pains.

**LAST NOTE:** I caught a bit of airheadedness due to me cutting sections and then adding sections later to this chapter, if any of you spot other things or have questions please submit a review and i'll fix it up.


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